


Augustia's Doom

by neurocat



Series: Knights of Felidae [1]
Category: Knights of Felidae, Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurocat/pseuds/neurocat
Summary: What happens when cats are placed into a fantasy world and live together in large kingdoms? When they must fight for survival, against all odds and nature itself? What happens when felines become knights, wizards, and warlocks?Follow Thistle, a knight of the kingdom of Augustia, as she embarks on a journey to stop a seemingly unstoppable necrological force.
Series: Knights of Felidae [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034691
Kudos: 2





	Augustia's Doom

Thunder. That is what Thistle heard as she looked out into the woods past her kingdom’s territory. The day had been disgustingly humid, and she had suspected a storm was brewing. She was correct. Digging her claws into the dirt, she opened her mouth, allowing the scents of the forest to enter. She had no idea why- but within her, her stomach curled. She couldn’t quell her feeling of fear and dread. She had been feeling it since the last full moon- something was not right in the kingdom of Augustia. With a flick of her tail, she stood, walking back into the main camp of the kingdom. She did not want to be stuck outside during a storm.  
As she entered the camp, she gave a glance around. Cats were everywhere, talking, grooming one another, enjoying their time together. Thistle couldn’t help but scoff. How were they all so calm? Something was obviously wrong. 

“UFF-!”

Thistle leaped back, her claws instinctively unsheathing. A large, ginger tom stumbled back, scrunching his nose.

“Thistle, watch where you’re goin’!” He spat, while remaining playful. 

“ Sorry, Gregor.” Thistle mumbled, slowly relaxing. She must have ran into him because she was lost in thought…

“It’s fine.” He purred, sitting and licking at his paw. “It didn’t hurt nothin’.” Gregor was relaxed as well. How? Thistle slowly sat next to Gregor, sighing. She felt safer near him. Maybe he would listen to her concerns.

“Gregor? I… have something to tell you.”

Gregor flinched, slowly looking at Thistle. His eyes darted around. “What? What is it?”

“I think something bad is going to happen… Nature is not pleased with us. Do you think Matriarch Odessa has done something to anger her?”

Gregor relaxed once again, his tail flicking. “Oh… that’s all? Nah… I think everything’s fine. A storm doesn’t mean nothin’.” He gently and playfully nudged Thistle, licking her ear. Thistle scrunched her nose in annoyance. He wasn’t going to listen, either. Her torbie fur bristled angrily as she stood. Maybe she would have to speak to the matriarch herself. But first…

“Moss?” Thistle purred, walking into a dark, damp cavern. A small calico tom sat in the back, holding a glass bottle in his paws. 

“Huh?” The tom whimpered, turning to Thistle. “Oh! Hello…! Are you alright?” He set the bottle down, rushing over to her, quickly checking her for wounds. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"No, no, Moss. I'm fine. I just... was coming for advice." She purred, grinning. "Do you feel like something bad is going to happen?" He was a wizard of Augustia... He should know, right?

"...Well..." Moss's voice trailed off, nervously. "I have felt... Something." He nodded, walking back to the bottle. "I'm preparing for the storm, right now. Just in case, you know? I don't want anyone getting sick, so I'm... helping Wisteria." Thistle nodded. Wisteria... she was the apothecary. She made sure everyone was healthy... though, it had been getting harder to do it on her own. 

"I see... Well..." Thistle sat, cringing uncomfortably at the cold stone floor. "What do you think is going to happen, then?" Moss flinched at her words, wrapping the bottle in large leaves. 

"I don't know, Thistle. But we will need to be prepared."


End file.
